


The Washbucket Princess

by Missy



Category: Der Froschkönig oder der eiserne Heinrich | The Frog Prince (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Banter, F/F, Fairy Tale Retellings, Female Friendship, Feminist Themes, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Independence, LGBTQ Themes, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 23:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Lianne is an independent-minded princess who's rejected suitor after suitor in her quest to find just the right sort of spouse.  Fortunately, fate, a talking royal frog, and her ever-loyal chambermaid conspire to save Lianne's kingdom and bring the princess to her throne.





	The Washbucket Princess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vinyaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinyaya/gifts).



> Since you mentioned several times that you love feminist retellings and LGBTQIA themes, I decided to give you both with a hefty side-order of female friendship and Princesses living on their own terms. I hope you enjoy!

Once upon a time there was a princess, with a tongue made of acid and a mind made of steel. 

So acidic and so steely, in fact, that by the time she turned eighteen she found herself suitorless. Completely and utterly without hope of marriage, which meant that whatever might befall the kingdom in her single state would be her fault.

It wasn’t that the Princess didn’t try to mask her sourness. Oh, she tried to crack a smile, tried to keep her morals straight and her heart open. Tried to make herself seem an appealing prospect for any man who might take interest in their kingdom. But she had something that many princesses her age refused to have; an opinion, and no desire to conceal her opinions as women of her station were often required to do. So it was that prince after prince rode to dance or dine with her and prince after prince was sent back to his kingdom, complaining of the Princess Lianna and her loudness, her outspokenness and impossible to manage attitude, and declaring that they never again would set foot in her kingdom as long as she was alive.

The king was bemused by this turn of events. “I believe,” her father said dryly, “your attitude might have something to do with it.”

And what of it? Lianna had been raised by her nursemaids and tutors and they, too bright and bored in their positions, had amused themselves by educating the princess in the ways of the world. She could read, write, tell the world of long-past pains that her fellow royal sisters had endured, and spit forty feet. She was one hell of a package and if none of them had the confidence to ask her to join them in matrimony then it was their loss.

While Lianna had always been of independent mind and tongue, had always had a head filled with strong, well-formed and completely self-realized thoughts, she had also always wanted to have a good marriage. Not an awful one; not one of unequal standing that would end with someone’s head getting lopped off. She wanted both things – her independence and a marriage both, and there were very, very few men who were willing to give it to her. Which was why she was approaching the dreaded age of twenty two with no marital prospects in sight, which meant that the kingdom would tumble into the hands of her distant cousin. And Lianna, as clever she was, was not one to cede power to a man she felt was an inferior copy of her grandfather in every single respect.

So the years passed on. Lianna grew wise and beautiful, and still she remained unmarried. 

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

“It’s your attitude,” said Daniella, emptying out the wash bucket.

Daniella had been Lianna’s maid since Lianna was wee, and the woman knew exactly what she’d been through, and what was ahead of her in the trials of marriage and queenlyhood. She’d served the girl’s mother. Obviously, it hadn’t gone well for her, as Lianna had no memory of her natural mother. “And what should I do to correct it?” asked Lianna, tapping her brush against her knee with barely restrained annoyance.

“Why don’t you stop looking down on all of those princes? Not every single one of them’s got to be all bad.”

“Please trust me when I say that each and every one of them were less than cool.”

“Humph,” Daniella remarked. “Well, if you’re going to be so firm about it….it’s not as though we can get those princes back, anyway.”

Lianna shrugged, getting up. “The flowers will grow, time will pass, and soon they will be forced to give me a seat at the table.”

“And you will improve the lives of the serfs and distribute power among the people and take care with her crops.” Daniella sat down upon the bed with a flop, not caring about how she would have been scolded by the head of scullery, were she seen fraternizing with the princess on the job. “It is a pretty story, and I would love to see it come true but you’ve got a lot of work to do if you want to see it happen – and if you pick the right husband he’ll let you make those changes all by yourself.”

“I know that. I just wish they’d give me a chance without asking me to be married.”

“You know I’ve always loved you,” Daniella said, “but you have to keep your eyes on the sky. Keep writing your laws and looking up, and luck will come to the bold.”

“Maybe you ought to keep an eye on the ground, too!” Came a sudden voice near Daniella’s wash bucket. “You never know what you’ll see if you do!”

Lianna paused mid-gesture. “Did your washbucket just talk?”

“Hey, don’t confuse me with a chunk of wood! I happen to have twice the personality that mop does.”

Both women – mortified and filled with fear – stepped closer to the bucket, until they could almost see into its belly, where an amphibian paddled among the suds. It was small green pond frog.

“Hey!” it said, chipperly unconcerned, its voice a tiny bit hoarse, and went back to its swimming.

Both women screamed at the sight of the talking frog; neither were, of course, frightened of amphibians – talking amphibians on the other hand weren’t even close to being of the norm within the kingdom.

“Would you quit that screaming?! You’re hurting my ear holes!” the frog shouted.

Lianna instantly straightened her posture. “I’m terribly sorry,” she said, icy voiced, “but It’s not every day one meets a talking frog.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day someone meets a princess with lungs like an opera singer!” It swam toward the edge of the bucket. “Would you mind? The lye’s making my skin itch.”

“Dani?” Lianna asked, eyeballing the sudsy bucket and the wart-laden fellow sitting dead center within it. Daniella sighed and crouched down beside the bucket, cupping her hands together and letting the frog. “Thanks, toots,” it said. 

“Dare I ask why? Why any of this?” Lianna said. She sat with Dani on the bed, the frog still cupped in the maid’s palm.

“Well, one time twenty one years ago, a witch hated a woman very much…”

“This is no time for sarcasm,” Lianna grumbled.

The frog rubbed a spidery hand over its face. “I wish it were sarcasm.”

Lianna said nothing in return, and it continued, “one day, my mother made the mistake of making a cousin of hers mad. The cousin was a witch. The witch cursed her firstborn to become a frog in its twenty-first year, which is why I am sitting in your cute friend’s hand.”

“Aww,” remarked Daniella. Lianna just sighed and harrumphed. 

“So why are you…presumably hiding in my castle’s well?”

“Turns out human beings really freak out when they see talking fogs! Who woulda thunk it.” The frog added, “I was banished from my kingdom until I become human again. So I’ve been hopping between ponds and rivers when red here scooped me up in her bucket. Anyway, the upshot of it all is, I’m stuck in this body until someone breaks the curse on me.”

“And how would one do that?” Linnea asked.

“Simple. A princess has to kiss me.”

Daniella eyeballed the frog wisely. “You’re a prince?” 

“Maybe,” the frog said, surprisingly evasive for one so apparently direct. “You’ll have to kiss me to find out.”

“Are you kidding me?” asked Lianna. 

“Am I green?” the frog said.

“We’re never going to settle this argument before the noon meal,” said Daniella. 

Linnea – though she adored an argument – admitted she was getting hungry. “I suppose this can wait.” She held open the pocket of her skirt. “Leave him with me, and tell Mistress Laberoux I required your help.”

“Hey, don’t I get a say in…?” but she secreted the frog in her pocket and it grumbled but otherwise stayed still and in place.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

The frog was surprisingly quiet as the rest of Linnea’s day progressed. She nearly forgot about its existence, mostly because she chose to spend her afternoon presenting her plans for the improving the kingdom.

Her father laughed heartily at her attempt. “Linnea, darling – you need to concern yourself with finding a strong man who will help you put these plans in place! Forget these thoughts of planting and the fall brewing and turn your heart to thoughts of love.”

Linnea glared at her father but, for once, had no retort for his argument. 

She barely heard the sympathetic sound the frog in her pocket made in response.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

“So your dad doesn’t get you, huh?”

Linnea rolled over, glancing at the flog, who swam happily in a small glass vessel Dani had found, nibbling on mealworms she had won from the castles’ fishermen. She held out a small fly for it and the frog gobbled it down. “That would be an understatement,” she said.

“You know, I bet there’s a way to get around him. Why don’t you try talking to your villagers face to face and see what they think of your ideas?”

Linnea’s eyes brightened. “…You know, I never thought of that idea. They do like me .”

“I’m only here to help. And eat more of those delicious flies.”

Linnea fed the frog one more, then unrolled her scroll of ideas. “Would you mind listening to my plans for replanting the wheat fields? I could use another ear.”

“Eh, why not. I’m not going anywhere for awhile...”

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

And so the princess and frog spent the next few months, slowly growing to know one another, and quietly implementing Linnea’s plans thanks to the luck of her father’s inattentiveness. And her plans turned out to be flawless ones; the orchard thrived, the wheat fields bloomed, and the building of a new kiln commenced, and all the while Dani worked as a go-between for the Princess and her frog, saving the tips she made to earn her way toward a position in town, her own shop and spinning wheel.

The king was fairly sure he had managed a great coup, and his daughter did not gainsay him.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

Linnea couldn’t help but preen at her small victories as they mounted up. The more confident she became in her victories, the more kind her outlook became. None of the princes she saw came any closer to marriage than the ones before. Her father presumed she’d taken his lecture seriously, instead of coming to the real conclusion – she was overjoyed by the progress she’d made.

The girl couldn’t help but preen at her accomplishments, if only in private with her close friends. “Frog, I could kiss you,” said Linnea, plotting new penning for the castle’s supply of pigs and turkeys. 

“That would be helpful, toots,” said the frog.

She smiled. “Perhaps…later,” Linnea said, her cheeks bright red.

The frog grumbled, but made no attempt at begging. If Linnea had only turned her head she would have seen that the fog was blushing, too.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

It was one of the king’s men at arms who told on Linnea, who spoiled her plans by spewing out the truth to her father. 

“It’s clear to me,” he said, trying to upbraid his daughter, “that I have let you run wild for too long. It’s time you were settled immediately into a fine marriage.”

Linnea’s eyes grew bright. “May I still choose my spouse?”

“Child, if you married the first person of royal blood that comes through the archway I should be pleased,” he glowered.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

She rushed to the privacy of her room and pulled the complaining frog from its slumber.

“Now,” she declared, “is the time.”

But neither made another move toward the other. Linnea and the frog eyed one another. The princess sighed and bent toward the small frog, lips puckered.

She felt cold skin, then warm flesh.

She opened her eyes and gasped.

“Surprise?” said the former frog.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

They were smart enough to set up a meeting at the side of a pond (fitting to the point of cliché –they’d laugh about it for years to come). Arriving at the throne arm in arm, they turned Linnea’s father’s face bright red but secured his permission to marry.

That Linnea’s true love and partner in crime was the Princess Susanne, long lost from the kingdom of Westphalen, was of no concern to her desperate father. 

Well. He did have one concern. “What of heirs?” he asked them once.

They looked at each other and shrugged. “I don’t plan on dying anytime soon,” Linnea said. 

“And,” Susanne pointed out, “you did say she could marry the first person of royal blood that came through the archway, which I happened to be.” She stood up strong and proud in her doublet and hose, chin thrust proudly out. Linnea wrapped her arm around Susanne’s waist and grinned, gently squeezing her.

The king threw his hands up in pure frustration, but didn’t gainsay either of them.

 

 

****

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

 

 

Years later, when Susanne and Linnea were comfortably married the same fall that they christened the town’s new wheat mill, Dani returned to the pond and bent beside the water. This would be her last act as a servant, for she would be moving to the village the very next week to open her sewing shop. She saw a particularly interesting looking frog, eyeballing him from the river.

Dani shrugged. Well, she was lonely, and it had worked for Linnea… She bent close to the river – and shrieked when someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Her flailing sent the surprised person headfirst into the river, and she stood up like a shot and covered her mouth in utter absolute horror.

“I’m so sorry!” she said.

“It’s quite all right,” the man said, his garb marking him out as one of the noblemen who’d stopped by to celebrate the wedding. It was good that Susanne had so many friends, Dani thought idly, for her parents still had not arrived for the ceremony. “Shouldn’t have surprised a lady that way.” He treaded water, spitting out a weed. “But what on earth were you doing?”

“I…” she considered her words carefully. “Was writing a tale for the queens. “ He snorted and she frowned. “I don’t think you’ll believe me,” she said, her cheeks turning red.

“I will listen to everything you have to say,” said the prince wearily, picking grass from his hair. 

Dani smiled, swinging her bucket saucily. She offered the man her hand. “Once upon a time,” she said, “there was a princess and a frog.”

And even in her stories, Dani, the duke, their children – who would become the Frog Queen’s heirs – and of course Susanne and Linnea lived happily ever after.


End file.
